“At least we have this evening. We can enjoy our first night in Ireland.” Rod unzipped his hanging bag and transferred the clothes to the closet. “It’s a fabulous country. We’ll explore as much as we can while we’re here. After all, we’re on our honeymoon.”
They stowed the empty luggage in the closet and strolled into the living room. “We should message General Steinburg to inform him we arrived.” Wyl took his iPad from his briefcase.
Rod checked the time. “It’s noon here, so seven o’clock in the morning in D.C. I bet he’s in his office.”
Wyl tapped the on-screen keyboard: Sterlings arrived in Galway. Awaiting further instructions.
A few seconds later, Wyl’s government cell phone rang. “Wyl Sterling.” He listened with a smile. “Yes, sir, General Steinburg. May I put you on speaker, sir, so Rod can also hear?” Wyl pressed the speaker icon on the screen.
“Gentlemen,” General Steinburg began, “I am glad you made it to your destination.”
“Yes, sir,” Wyl said.
“I spoke with Commissioner Seamus Kane, the top-ranking official for An Garda Síochána. As I mentioned in our Pentagon meeting, Ireland boasts a national police force. The entire country is about the same size in square miles as Maine. Dingle, on the southwest coast of Ireland, to Belfast on the northeast coast, is only 317 miles. You Texas boys think nothing of driving 250 miles from your ranch to your place in Kerrville for a weekend.”
“General,” Rod chuckled, “you certainly did a thorough job of vetting us.”
The general returned the chuckle. “Rod, neither of you would be in Ireland now if we didn’t know you. Now, back to Ireland. Commissioner Kane is the top guy and the individual who requested our assistance. He assures me of their full cooperation. Gardaí have been investigating the suspects for quite some time to no avail. They need someone on the inside, and that’s where you two come in.”
“Understood, general.” Rod glanced at Wyl. “Commissioner Seamus Kane. Is he our contact?”
“Excellent question, Rod. You two won’t deal with Commissioner Kane but with a local contact in Galway. Chief Superintendent Ciaran O’Brien is the top official for the Galway district. Commissioner Kane spoke to O’Brien. He is aware of your presence and expects your call.”
"Thank you, general.” Wyl nodded. “What is your recommendation for contact with the Chief Superintendent?”
“Gentlemen, I urge you to avoid face-to-face contact with Gardaí. A honeymooning couple would not interact with police. O’Brien will handle communication. Use your government cell phone to call his office and inform him you are in the country. He will take it from that point. And speaking of cell phones, I assume you also have your personal cell phones?”
“Yes, sir,” Wyl said.
“Use your personal phones any time you contact the suspects. Having a phone number they can verify helps with your cover. But…and this is important…always carry your government-issued phones with you. We can track your location through those phones. If Gardaí asks for your personal cell phone numbers, provide them. Having alternate methods of contact and location is helpful. But all contact with Gardaí or with other agents on the mission must be done with your government-issued phones. We're not sure what access the suspects have. If they can break into the financial system, they can also break into other databases, including phone records. We want nothing to arouse suspicion.”
"We'll follow those guidelines, general,” Rod said. “What other information do we need at this point about the mission?”
“Gentlemen, I cannot stress enough you are the right two people for this job. I chose you because of your expertise and suitability. I handled many missions but never had more confidence in a team than I have in the two of you.”
“Thank you, general. We appreciate the support and the information,” Rod said.
“Be safe, gentlemen, and keep me posted.” The call disconnected.
“Ready to go?” Wyl asked.
Rod opened the front door and stepped outside. “We can load up on enough food for a week or so.”
“I like your idea.” Wyl followed Rod and closed the door behind him.
After completing the shopping and stocking the kitchen, they settled in for the evening. After a martini and a light meal, exhaustion dragged them to a stopping point. Bed beckoned, and they snuggled together in their new bed after a shower. An uncertain period lay ahead, but jetlag made them too tired to focus on the Emerald Mission.
PART TWO
THE MISSION
CHAPTER EIGHT
“The plan is almost finished.” Ailbe sipped his morning coffee. “The course project I assigned my best students. Pure genius on my part. They are doing a majority of the coding without realizing it.”
Ailbe MacGowan was a gifted technologist. He happened upon a security coding weakness and created havoc by stealing account information from the Irish banking system. His goal? Prove to himself the worth of his undetectable scheme. The experiment proved millions lay ready for the taking before anyone realized it, and he gloated over the power.
“Your cyber-invasion of the banks impressed me,” Declan said. “Breaking in but taking nothing? Sheer genius. Officials must be scrambling to find something they missed. I’m surprised we haven’t seen any news about it.”
Ailbe chuckled. “Would you want to admit your system suffered weak security? Imagine the panic of account holders. Plus, the government doesn’t want to admit vulnerabilities in the financial system. At this point, I hold frustrated government and financial officials by the balls, and they are trying to keep me from squeezing. I'm glad I have a willing group of brilliant young minds at my disposal to do the background coding.”
“Isn’t involving the students dangerous? What if they discover what the code does?” Declan said. “In my world, we hold things close to the vest. Outside participation may jeopardize everything. How long before those same students poke holes in your plan?”
“Cracking one banking system took a lot of effort.” Ailbe nibbled a piece of toast. “Cracking banking systems all over the globe would take a lot of time. Why not have the students do the work for me?”
Declan raised a questioning eyebrow. “Does student involvement not complicate things?”
“I gave them the most common security protocols used by most financial institutions and told them to use the information for practice. They didn’t, and won't, realize the coding came from the banking system itself. They think the project is an assignment.” Ailbe snubbed Declan’s fears.
“Did any of them raise suspicions at any point?” Declan shoved beans onto his fork with his knife. “You said yourself this class is a smart bunch of lads.”
“No, I gave each student a separate assignment. Only the sharpest student might make a connection if they compared notes.” Ailbe fits the description of a 21st-century rebel, reminiscent of the anti-establishment protestors of the 1960s, only with the power of computers and the Internet behind his evil scheme.
“Remember, I can handle anyone who gets in the way.” Declan’s piercing eyes bore into Ailbe’s before he eyed his plate, stuffed a grilled tomato slice in his mouth, and chewed. Declan’s relationship with Ailbe allowed him to exercise the darker side of his personality. The world included too many people, so a killing meant nothing more than population control.
“Nobody will discover what’s happening until it’s too late,” Ailbe said. “When I access the worldwide financial communication link, as list of all accounts in all the banks on the network is at my disposal. I’ll take a single Euro, or equivalent, out of every account, netting you and me millions, if not billions.”
Declan shivered, closed his eyes, and imagined all the money.
